The Machine does not Stop
by SamCyberCat
Summary: What if Clive had succeeded and those who tried to stop him had failed? Would the end results really be what he had wanted all along?


Notes – Written for a kinkmeme response to a prompt that wanted to see what could happen if Clive had actually been successful in his plans, with lots of angst and character death. Needless to say this contains many spoilers for the plot of the third game, so don't read if you haven't completed it. Also, lots of established character deaths, so not for the faint hearted. Lastly, sorry for the rip-off title but it was the most fitting one I could think of.

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><p>The most terrifying thing about a giant destructive robot rampaging over London is that if no one stops it then it won't stop on its own. At least not until the city in question has been brought to its knees.<p>

But who decides when that has happened?

Not the government, who were the priority one enemy of all this. Not the army, who had failed to stop it in any attempts they'd made. And certainly not Hershel Layton, who… who had tried…

No, the only person who could decide when it was all over was the man driving it, Clive Dove. Political terrorist. Whatever they would refer to him as now.

He had spent years planning this all. From the moment he'd been old enough to realise that there was a man responsible for his parents' death, Clive had researched as much as he could into the matter, plotted his revenge, put so much time and finance into getting back at the people who were to blame for this damage. Bill Hawks was more dangerous than Clive could ever be, even in his giant robot. That man made all the corrupt decisions in the country, poisoning England from the inside and lying about the people who he'd killed to get to the top.

But he wouldn't be doing any of that anymore, oh no.

The concept of using Bill's heart beat to keep the robotic contraption running had been mostly dramatic, just one more obstacle for Layton to try to over come if he'd made it to- …no, he'd think about Layton latter.

It had put a purposeful limit on the life span of the mobile fortress, however. And Clive knew exactly when that limit would give out. Bill was dying and Clive wouldn't be done with this until he was dead. So, for the final act, he'd driven the contraption to the houses of parliament, the Prime Minister's public stronghold and then… that was when he'd detonated it.

Bill had died and his rule was crushed under the weight of the robot. His tyranny over England had ended not in luxury or even in political disgrace, but with the painful death that he deserved. The same way that those people had also died painfully by Bill's hands in the past.

It went without saying that Clive had planned his own escape route. He watched the remains of his fortress crumple among the burning debris from the outside. It was at this point that the ringing in his ears started and he turned to face the rest of London.

Fire everywhere. Police sirens. Death.

He knew it would come to this, he'd planned it all out, but somehow his plans seemed to stop at this point.

Why, in all those years of creating an underground city, had he never devoted a single thought to what would come after he'd defeated Bill?

The answer was – Hershel Layton.

He honestly knew that the city, the tales of the future, had not been as much for his revenge scheme as it had been an elaborate attempt to fool Layton. Just for the thrill of having made the man believe his lies even for a short while. But… there had been more to it than that.

Clive had invited Layton to his trap because somewhere, deep down, he knew that what he was doing was messed up and wrong. There was still inside of him that little boy who Layton had once saved from the fire by slapping him across his face. He had wanted the professor to stop him again, since he couldn't stop himself.

And maybe he'd not planned further than this because he'd never truly believed that Layton wouldn't have been able to stop him.

But he'd been wrong. Layton had failed. He was dead along with Luke and the girl Flora, who Clive had kidnapped. And Bill too. They were all dead.

Realistically, they'd never stood a chance piloting that car up the side of the fortress. Part of Clive had wanted them to get in, but the madness had gripped him and assured him that he'd come too far now to let up. So he'd devoted more time to paying attention to the Laytonmobile and eventually he'd managed to shoot it down. Though he had no idea where it had landed he knew that Layton and Luke could not have survived.

Once they had been taken out of the picture there was no point in keeping a hostage, so Flora had been left in the glass chamber to meet the same fate as Bill when it came to the end.

He stood still, taking it all in.

This… was not how you changed a system.

Taking down a corrupt Prime Minister would stop him making choices that affected everyone, but even without Bill the police sirens still went on – people still worked. Firemen saved those in burning buildings because it was their duty to do so. The machine did not stop when one man died.

He would not change London this way.

His body shook all over as he realised that.

Tears fell down his face and the child inside him was let loose of from madness, suddenly wishing that Layton had stopped him. That Layton could be here to slap him once more and somehow fix all this. Because killing one man might not change the world but somehow he truly believed that Layton was the sole person who could fix all this.

It did not come.

Layton was not there to fix anything.

The slap across the face, however, did come.

Clive clutched at his now stinging cheek, looking up into the eyes of a woman filled with fury. A woman who had also not been there on time.

Celeste. No, that wasn't right. Although Clive didn't know the full story behind her he wasn't fool enough to leave a wrench like this one in the works without keeping some tabs on her. The true identity of this woman was Claire. Somehow Layton's old girlfriend who had seemingly perished in the first explosion was here right now and she was not going to let him get away with his destruction.

"Is this what you wanted, Clive?" she demanded.

He looked up at her blankly. He couldn't answer.

She was also quivering, but in her case with rage, as she went on; "Everyone is gone, because of you! London is destroyed and Hershel is… Hershel is…" Not being able to finish that she changed the sentence to, "All he'd ever done was try to help you!"

"Well he should have tried harder!"

Clive heard that come out of his mouth. Maybe he should have given Layton more of a chance to help him in the first place, but if he was really as great of a person as Clive had believed he was then he shouldn't have needed any chances. He shouldn't have been able to die so quickly, so gracelessly.

"All he ever did was try for London! Try for everyone! And this is what he got in return. Y-you're sickening…" Claire said, tears streaming down her face.

Something clicked in Clive's mind when he heard that.

"You can't believe it either…" he said quietly, then added louder, "You thought he was your saviour as well and that's why you want someone else to blame, because you can't believe he would let himself die so easily!"

"No!" She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him, but they both knew it was true. "No… Hershel was too good for all of this… It was you! It was Bill! It was… was…" Her emotions had become too much for her. She sunk down, using the hands on his shoulders for support.

He felt for some reason the need to comfort her. Since they were both the survivors of this disaster. But after all he'd done, how could he?

"I'll return to my own time soon…" she choked out, never having been given the opportunity to explain this to Layton, "T-to the moment of the explosion… And I will die. And… I'd rather be dead then live knowing that this is the future…"

Clive cried out like a child; "You can't leave! You're the only one left! You're… you're… I need you!"

"You need someone," Claire agreed, pulling away from him, "But you've killed everyone who could have helped you. I'm just sorry that I couldn't get to you in time…"

"Please, stay… we could find their bodies and… and…" he mumbled.

"I have no choice in the matter," she confirmed, "If I could stay then I would help you, but my time has run out."

She was fading into a golden light, it all seemed so impossible.

"Please, Claire!" he yelled.

"Goodbye, Clive. I hope that your future is not as lost as all of ours are. That you find that child inside of you and save yourself…"

Those were the last words that he heard from her before she disappeared.

The sound of sirens were getting closer now, the police would have realised that getting to the wreckage of the machine was probably their best chance of catching the man responsible. But he couldn't go with them, not yet, so he fled.

It was weeks of living undercover before Clive finally made his choice.

After what had happened he couldn't go to anyone, as everyone knew his face and knew that he was the man responsible for the murder of so many. But just as he'd expected, London was rebuilding itself. The city was being slowly put back to right and those who were injured were being seen to by those who weren't. They might not have a leader for the moment but they knew what they all had to do to keep the world going.

Most importantly… the heroes had been buried.

They had not found the bodies of neither Layton nor Luke, but graves had been erected for them, along with Flora and Bill. Fittingly, Layton had been buried between Luke and the existing grave of Claire, which Clive was pleased about.

He had waited for the media coverage to die before going to visit. As big a deal as these heroes' deaths had been they'd been grossly drowned out in the news by that of Bill's and the newspapers were covered with images of his wife crying dramatically. It was sickening, but at least people remembered Layton, Luke and Flora. They did not remember Claire, but Clive did all the same…

Looking over the graves he made a decision.

He still wasn't ready to go to prison.

Certainly, he belonged there, but he wasn't prepared to face a lengthy trial when he knew of his crimes and most of all he wasn't ready to face Dimitri – who not only knew of his crimes but had been arrested just before the robot had attacked London. He'd tricked that man and Dimitri had been one of the people that Clive had wanted revenge upon for what had happened in the past. He knew that, more than to get back at Bill, Dimitri had deluded himself into believing that he could build the time machine to save Claire and that was why he'd helped Clive. Dimitri been so close, but now his chance had been snatched from him forever.

Clive had no idea what sort of man losing his goals would turn Dimitri into and he didn't want to find out.

What he did want was confirmation.

Not only were there never any bodies found for Layton or Luke, but the wreckage of the Laytonmobile hadn't been located either. Although he knew the change of them being alive was slim, Clive couldn't rest until he was certain.

And after that?

Well, he couldn't stay in London that was for sure. Possibly he'd leave England, but that all depended on what the fruits of his search for the professor and the apprentice would be. He'd plan for that when he got there.

And so, with a final goodbye to the graves of these four innocents, Clive laid to rest his want for vengeance against the system and began his new search, his new purpose and his new life.


End file.
